by Abby Ayles
Judith swallowed, nodding. “Amy. You are right. We must stop. It would not do to continue. Not like this. Oh dear, I am so sorry. I should have…”
She didn’t finish her words before the skies roared again, closely followed by another earsplitting crack of lightning. As that passed, the sound of a heavy downpour beating down on the carriage filled their ears.
Judith stared wide-eyed at Amy. The worst had come, it had begun to rain.
“Oh, Amy, what shall we do?”
She could barely hear herself above the noise of the downpour. It was a torrent, wicked and unlike anything she had ever experienced. The cold seeped into the carriage and her bones.
As the first shudder racked through her, she held on more tightly to Amy, gathering her scarf around her for warmth.
Mr. Giraud had known what he was saying after all. The thought of him out there in the rain froze her heart. Suddenly, she lurched into action.
If they stopped and waited in the carriage, he could come in and wait with them. That way, they might survive this yet.
Pulling away from Amy, she reached for the carriage doors. As she tried to open it, Amy grabbed on to her hand.
At the top of her voice, she cried, “My lady, what do you think you’re doing?”
Judith shouted in return. “I must speak with Mr. Giraud, tell him to stop the carriage and join us here. He is out there in the rain. I cannot imagine what it must be like for him. Goodness, can he even see?”
“My lady, it is too dangerous for you to go out there. Pray tell me, however do you hope to get his attention? We are in here and can hardly hear each other!”
“I see no other way, Amy. Mr. Giraud is our only hope out of this. Besides, I brought this upon us. If any harm comes to him, I would not be able to forgive myself.”
She opened the carriage door then and was immediately blown aside by the sheer force of the wind. Rain poured into the carriage, wetting them both.
Shock overwhelmed her, as she watched the horror that was the storm with her own eyes. Her heart began to hammer heavily against her ribs.
Her stomach squirmed with an ugly feeling of dread. On her tongue, she could taste ill-luck.
Something terrible was going to happen. She knew this with absolute certainty.
She started to shake her head, willing herself to move. She wouldn’t sit by and let Mr. Giraud suffer for her foolishness.
Again, she stood up, this time, braver than before. She struggled against the wind, no matter how hard it tried to push her away.
“My lady, please!” she heard Amy cry.
Ignoring her maid’s pleas, she got to the door and pushed her head out.
“Mr. Giraud! Mr. Giraud! Stop this carriage this instant! Come here, stay with us!”
She continued to shout, though deep down, she knew it was hopeless. There was no way Mr. Giraud could hear her in the madness. She couldn’t even see him.
It was as though day had turned to night.
Soon, she grew weary. Aware that she couldn’t keep it up, she shut the carriage door and fell on to her seat. Amy was by her side before she could blink.
“Oh, my lady! You’ve gotten so wet! Your skin has grown cold. Oh dear, you’re going to catch a chill.”
Tears streamed from Judith’s eyes. She was cold, truly chilled to the bone.
Yet, she could not care less about herself. Mr. Giraud was still out there.
“Why wouldn’t he stop the carriage, Amy? He should know better.”
“Well, my lady, you did make it clear that you want him to take us to Aunt Tia’s at all costs.”
“That is ridiculous! I did not know the weather would become so violent.”
“No matter. All we can hope and pray for now is that we all make it out of this … safe and sound.”
More tears rolled down Judith’s cheeks. Somehow, she knew that was a fool’s hope. Something terrible was indeed going to happen.
Heartbroken, she dropped her head into her palms and began to sob.
“Dear Lord, what have I done?”
Chapter 5
Mr. Giraud was a simple man who lived a simple life. He had a wife and two daughters back in London, all of whom he loved and cared for very much.
He earned an honest living as a coachman.
Many times, he had traveled this route and several others, bearing passengers to and from their destinations. Perhaps his work was not as fancy as that of, say, a captain on the sea, but he was just as hardworking.
He watched the weather, scouted the terrains, sought the best travel paths and wholesome resting places suited to all kinds of passengers from across every social class.
He was good at what he did, even if he said so himself.
It was why, when he had awoken earlier that morning, even before the weather had become blustery, he had looked to the far end of the sky and known there was a storm coming.
Having heard many sad tales, he knew better than to be caught in a storm, especially while driving a carriage. It never ended well.
Accidents were bound to happen and, all too often, lives were lost. Those who survived rarely did so in one piece.
So, there and then, he had made up his mind to speak to the fair lady and advise her that their journey be delayed.
Well, he had tried.
She had remained obstinate, determined to cover more ground before the day’s end.
He should have continued to insist. He should have refused. At the very least, he should have demanded that if she still wished to travel, then she would have to do it without him.
But the lady was the daughter of a wealthy baron, and he was no more than a common man. By all counts, she was his better.
The baron had paid Mr. Giraud a handsome sum to bear his daughter safely to the north.
It was five times worth his usual fees. How could he have refused?
Had he known the lady was so impetuous, he would still have accepted the offer, aware that it was the kind that only came once in a lifetime.
Then, he had heard her say she was going to pay him even more.
There was so much he could do with the money. At the very least, buy gifts for his dear Marie and the girls.
They had been pleading for more dresses for a while.
Mr. Giraud had imagined himself returning home bearing boxes of beautiful dresses.
The smiles on their faces, the light in their eyes, would have been worth it all.
However, as he struggled to see amid the downpour, he came to the realization that the morning before might have been the last time he would ever see them.
He wouldn’t be returning with any dresses. He wouldn’t be returning at all.
He chided himself as those dreadful thoughts crossed his mind. It would not do to welcome such evil when all hope was not yet lost.
If only he could see, he would stop the carriage and join the ladies.
Alas, he was not certain they were in a good place. What was to say the rain would not cause a flood and end up carrying them away?
He simply had to continue. Perhaps he would be able to lead them to a place safe enough to rest and wait out the storm?
Once again, the skies rumbled. This time, when lightning struck, it landed between the horses.
He had been having a hard time enough, trying to get them to keep moving.
They were already uneasy from all the rain and wind. Almost being hit by lightning caused them to snap.
Their neighs filled the air as they rebelled, digging their hind heels into the ground, whilst they reared their forelegs into the air.
The reins started to slip from Mr. Giraud’s hands as the horses struggled to break free. He put all his weight into his seat, using his feet as an anchor as he fought to retain control.
He could feel the leather straps eating into his palms, causing him pain. Every part of him dripped with water and it was proving impossible to hold on with hands so wet.
Yet, he pulled harder, gruntin
g. If he lost the horses, then truly, they would have no hope.
His heart flew out of his chest as the first horse broke free. His stomach fell when the second did, too. His head spun as the third join them.
Shocked, in despair, he watched helplessly as all three horses ran for dear life in different directions.
Just then, the carriage came to a slow stop. He quickly pulled himself together, knowing this was not the time to mourn.
So long as he still had breath in him, he would continue to fight to keep them safe. All of them.
He leaned in, to peer closely at the last standing horse. He wondered why it had suddenly stopped moving. Perhaps, since it couldn’t break free, this was its own form of rebellion?
It didn’t take long before Mr. Giraud saw what the problem was. They had gotten into muddy earth, and the wheel was stuck.
He began to think hard. This was the worst place to stop. Even if he managed to get the wheel out, it would simply get stuck again.
Before he could decide what to do, the storm became more treacherous. The skies roared again, and, the next thing he knew, he was being thrown off the carriage.
As he flew into the air, Mr. Giraud saw his end approaching. His dear Marie’s face, and those of his lovely girls, Anne and Claire, flashed before his eyes.
He wished he’d had more time to tell them how much he loved them and how he would always be with them, even in death. He hoped they would not suffer too much.
That they would find happiness quickly, comfort, too.
Pain racked him as he fell against a tree and rolled to the ground, ripping a loud cry from the depth of his soul.
He heard the cracking of bones and another roar, then his world went dark.
***
Judith jumped in her seat as the anguished cry pierced through the storm, penetrating her ears.
She turned to Amy, meeting her wide-eyed gaze.
“Mr. Giraud!” they chorused.
They wasted no time getting out of the carriage. All thought of their safety was forgotten. All that mattered in that moment was making certain Mr. Giraud was well.
They screamed as they jumped into the mud, immediately getting stuck.
Fear seized Judith once again, but they could not stop. Not then. Finding her strength, she pulled her feet out from the mud and continued to move, putting one foot in front of the other.
The storm that had threatened hail only a moment ago began to lessen, affording them a clear line of vision. Shaking from the chill seeping into their bones, they laboriously made their way to the front of the carriage.
Judith’s jaw dropped as she beheld the sight.
It was worse than she could have imagined: Three horses were gone. The only one left was futilely trying to get itself out of the mud.
Mr. Giraud was nowhere in sight.
“He’s not here, Amy. Mr. Giraud isn’t here! Oh heavens! Where could he be?” she said at the top of her voice.
“Let’s look around, my lady. He could not have gone far, I’m certain of it,” Amy replied, shouting.
“We have to find him soon. He might be in danger. We must help him.”
Amy followed her in wordless agreement. They went around the carriage, eventually leaving to go further into the woods.
There were no houses in sight. Only trees. Just as Mr. Giraud had warned, they were now stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no shelter to be had.
Pushing that aside, Judith tried to concentrate on what was most important: Finding Mr. Giraud.
They must have searched for an eternity, for it certainly felt that way.
At least the storm appeared to have ended its tyranny. The wind had dropped, and the clouds no longer threatened to wreak havoc.
However, the rain continued to pour, only now more softly, so they could see more clearly, easily finding their way around.
Judith’s chest continued to rise and fall as she panted and shivered. She looked around frantically, still searching for signs of Mr. Giraud.
Just then, a shrill scream pierced the air, and she froze in fear.
Amy!
Quickly, she recovered and started searching for her maid.
“Amy! Amy! Where are you? What has happened?”
She was hysterical. Amy had been right by her side only a moment ago.
Finally, her eyes landed on a familiar figure, standing by a tree, frozen in place.
“Amy?” she called out again but got no response.
She covered the distance between them hurriedly. When she reached Amy’s side, she found her maid sobbing, eyes wide with horror.
Judith took her shoulders into her hands and shook her lightly.
“Amy, what is the matter?”
Amy wouldn’t speak; she couldn’t. Instead, she stared at her feet, causing Judith to look down.
That was when Judith saw it—the thing that had caused Amy to scream.
She covered her mouth as a gasp broke free, stopping the scream that might have followed in its tracks.
At Amy’s feet was Mr. Giraud. He looked badly injured. His wet clothes were covered in blood. His leg was visibly broken, and his eyes were shut tight.
“Dear Lord!” she exclaimed as she recovered from the initial shock. She knelt, pulling Mr. Giraud into her arms.
Amy joined her. “I stumbled upon him,” she explained. “I didn’t know he was here. I didn’t think we would find him in such a condition. Heavens … what do you think might have happened to him?”
Judith looked up at the tree beside them, then down at Mr. Giraud. His head was badly bruised, too. He seemed to be bleeding everywhere.
Although he was still breathing, she feared he would not survive.
“I think he was thrown off the carriage and landed against the tree. Look at its bark … it has blood on it. Mr. Giraud’s blood.”
Amy began to weep uncontrollably, shaking Mr. Giraud as she did.
“Come back, Mr. Giraud. Come back to us. Oh, heavens! This is terrible. Please, Lord … help him. Save him.”
Judith said nothing as she watched Amy cry and pray.
Mr. Giraud wasn’t entirely gone yet. She could hear his labored breathing, but he wouldn’t open his eyes.
All she could think of was that she had caused this. The storm was not responsible—only herself. It was her stubbornness, pride, and foolishness that had left Mr. Giraud now barely grasping on to life.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, so hot they burned into her skin, before turning cold with the rain.
She shut her eyes tight and sent a desperate plea up above. She had no inkling of how to care for the injured man, to nurse him back to life. They could not carry him, hoping to find help.
They were lost. Tired. Hungry. Cold. They were completely helpless, and it would be Mr. Giraud who was now paying the price for her own sins.
Her mother was wrong. Her heart wasn’t special: A special heart wouldn’t commit such a grave, selfish deed.
“Mr. Giraud, Mr. Giraud!” she cried desperately.
She continued to tap his face softly, hoping he would wake up.
“Mr. Giraud! Please, stay with us!”
His eyes fluttered open then. She could see he was in great pain. When he spoke, his voice was a broken whisper.
“La … dy Jud … ith, you … are … safe.”
“Yes, Mr. Giraud. I am here. I am so sorry. This is all my fault. I am so sorry. Please, forgive me. Don’t go. Stay with us until the rain passes, and we will get you to safety.’
Mr. Giraud tried to smile at her but ended up grimacing in pain.
“No, m-m-m … m-my … lady. You … you are young and know n-n-n … no better. You did n-not force my hand. M-my greed got the best of me. P-please do not blame yourself.”
Judith’s soul was pained to see him so broken. He was a far cry from the strong man she had squabbled with that morning over breakfast.
“Please, Mr. Giraud, don’t … don’t speak again. You must keep your st
rength.”
He tried to smile again, succeeding this time, though it was a very sad smile.
“I can … I cannot make it. I will not...”
“Don’t say such things! Yes, you will!”